


Ambedo

by PunishedPyotr



Series: Only Ones and Zeros [5]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Finger Sucking, Jealousy, M/M, Overstimulation, Sickfic, and a confused Liquid Snake AI, intentionally lewd displays of affection, reupload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: Liquid's clever enough to figure out how to access the Patriot network, and foolish enough that he falls prey to its cybersecurity measures. Mantis can't fix him without consulting an identical but undamaged program.Liquid doesn't like the way Mantis looks at it.





	Ambedo

When Mantis comes home, the first thing he see is all the bodies, because it’s hard to miss. That, and the HIND D lying on its side about 300 meters away from where it’s supposed to be, and Metal Gear REX sitting still and empty in the middle of the helipad.

Looks like Eli had his fun with it. But of course, he would have gotten bored again as soon as the combat high wore off, and with all the Gurlukovich soldiers and - in all likelihood - Gray Fox already dead and no way to reset until Mantis returned, he must have just parked REX and headed back inside.

Mantis _knows_ he’s around here somewhere. His thoughts are just, oddly, blank. Well, not really oddly. He’s developed a habit of spacing out in situations where in life he would have dozed off. But it’s odd because usually Eli can sense through their psychic link whenever Mantis is nearby, and up until now every single time Mantis has arrived in the simulation, provided Eli wasn’t ‘dead’, Eli’s perked up all of a sudden — like a dog jumping out of its bed with a wagging tail, or, more appropriately, a snake slithering out of its hide, tongue flicking as its owner approaches.

_Eli? What a cold reception…_

There’s no response to Mantis’ prod, and he starts to get concerned. He glances in Eli’s memories - even though it’s not something Eli has ever much liked - and frowns. Well, props to his resourcefulness and adaptability for figuring out how to access the network outside this simulation by himself, but…

But something went _wrong_ , and right now he’s effectively in a coma.

Mantis sits down on the side of the bed in the quarters they used right up until the final stage of the takeover, and reaches into Eli’s code. They say he’s good with technology but he’s really not; it just happens to be one of the things his psychic powers are particularly effective with. Truthfully, he’s only got slightly better than a layman’s understanding of programming. He can’t quite tell what the Patriot’s cybersecurity measures _did_ to Eli.

He resets a few variables that he knows are wrong, and Eli suddenly appears prone on the bed next to Mantis. He’s pale and discolored and unmoving, and he flickers a few times, his body distorting briefly and cycling through resolutions before Mantis untrips enough exceptions that he stabilizes, but doesn’t awake.

It’s not much comfort. If anything, seeing him lying here is even worse. Mantis knows he’s _alive_ , wouldn’t be able to read his mind (or rather, his memories - Eli’s not even capable of dreaming right now) if he wasn’t, and even if left like this Eli wouldn’t _die_ because he hadn’t been programmed to starve or die of thirst, but… well, it’s just upsetting. He’s wholly unresponsive, even though normally Eli _enjoys_ Mantis rooting around in his code - a little too much, really.

Mantis finds a few more variables he knows are out of place, and eventually Eli twitches and there’s a little spark of sensation somewhere in his mind. Mantis sighs in relief. He actually manages to wrest Eli back to consciousness.

Eli stares at him blearily, squirming uncomfortably on the bed. He feels weak and dizzy and his whole body (especially his program framework) is sore.

“Mantis…?”

“Shh. I am working on it.”

Eli whimpers pathetically and Mantis softens his psychic touch, almost to the point where Eli can’t feel his ‘hands’ between lines of code, and he relaxes bonelessly against the mattress, trembling, breathing labored.

“I feel ill…”

“I am not surprised,” Mantis says in a severe voice, “I warned you about going out into the network. I _told_ you your AI was not given authorization access outside his immediate needs, and I told you that you would be considered a virus.”

“I… I didn’t think…”

“I know you didn’t, Eli.” Mantis runs out of code he knows what to do with, and gives up with a sigh. Obviously Eli hasn’t really been _fixed_ yet, but blind experimentation would almost definitely just be worse for him. “You are lucky you managed to get back to the VR program before you were destroyed.”

“But… I just… didn’t think there would be any… anti-virus…”

“Eli, please do not talk. Save your strength. I have done all I can for now.”

_it was just some financial reports i think_ , he says internally, and his thoughts are somewhat inarticulate and they seem sluggish. _i’m not really sure it was just the first set of files i found i only looked because i was curious_

“You were bored,” Mantis says.

_i was curious i couldn’t read them though they were in russian or at least they looked russian i suppose they could have been ukrainian or bulgarian or something else_

Mantis brushes his hand over Eli’s hair, and he closes his eyes tiredly.

_they might not have even been financial reports i have no idea i just saw a lot of very large numbers you know i’m not exactly stellar at money matters when really large numbers come into it_

“Eli, shh.” He keeps petting his hair. “You feel ill, but you are fine. You are not in any danger of dying,” he says, and it’s really more to remind himself of that than Eli.

Because Eli doesn’t care. He just lets out a soft “Mmn.”

“I should be able to fix you if I copy the sections of damaged code from your original AI. It should still be available…”

_so like gene therapy splicing father’s genes into the genome army_ , Eli thinks, and easily accepts the idea of what Mantis needs to do, because he finds it a familiar procedure and trusts that Mantis will have better success with this than the Genome Army had. The only problem is that he feels a little twinge of inferiority at being reminded that even his AI framework was copied from somewhere else.

Mantis sighs. “I need to go. But I will make a backup of the AI and bring it back here, so that I can be with you while I am figuring things out.”

Eli nods slowly.

Mantis pulls a blanket over him and nuzzles him, briefly. “I will be right back. Just rest until then, Eli.”

“Nn…”

Mantis returns to the network, to Jack’s now-disused VR regimen, the original Shadow Moses incident simulation. He hardly ever thinks about it anymore - he doesn’t have time to, anyway, and besides, what use is a shallow AI imitation of Eli when the real one is feeling sorry for himself hidden away in a different part of the network? Mantis barely glances at the other files as he duplicates the simulation’s Liquid Snake and absconds into the network again.

He can feel Eli’s misery abate when he senses Mantis’ return, but for now he’s content to just lie in his dark quarters and know that Mantis is elsewhere on the base and capable of being by his side in a second if he wants him. Mantis leaves him alone and holes up in the commander’s room, where he gets to work.

He’s so absorbed in dissecting the artificial Eli’s program that he doesn’t notice the real Eli walk in until he feels a creeping sense of horror from behind him.

“What’s… Mantis, what’s going on here…?”

Mantis glances over his shoulder. Eli is staring, wide-eyed, at his exact duplicate (down to the clothes) lying on the floor, face blank, body jerking occasionally. Evidently it’s very unsettling to see yourself like that.

“I am going through his code,” Mantis says, “you remember how that feels.”

Eli nods mutely.

“It is a bit beyond the AI’s sensation parameters, so he does not know how to react to it, hence this behavior. Essentially, I have overwhelmed him.”

“I… I see…”

The three padded chairs on one side of the room click together as Mantis gestures to them. “Eli, go lie down. You are free to stay in here, but you are going to collapse if you stand any longer.”

Eli walks over to the chairs without protest or comment, but he sits instead of lies, eyes still fixed on the other Eli. Mantis sighs, and again softens his psychic touch.

The other Eli, the one who doesn’t even know his name _is_ Eli, sits up, rubbing his head, then glances at the real Eli.

“What?” he says.

Eli narrows his eyes at him. It’s hardly intimidating, considering how pale and haggard he looks.

“It’s… no, it can’t be. What’s going on here?” ‘Liquid’ spasms briefly as Mantis ignores the proceedings and tries to concentrate on the programming he needs.

“You’re a bloody fake of me,” Eli snarls.

“…I don’t understand,” Liquid says, and Mantis finds it almost nostalgic, the way his voice is flat and he crosses his arms irritably.

Eli glances at Mantis, his face twisted in anger. He doesn’t like the way Mantis is looking at the AI. Mantis rolls his eyes as Eli stands up.

“Eli, I told you to lie down.”

“Eli?” Liquid repeats, “who is Eli? There isn’t anyone on this base by that name.”

Eli wraps his arms around Mantis’ chest from behind, and it’s partly an intentional, performative display of conspicuous affection, but he’s also supporting himself against Mantis’ thin frame so his knees won’t buckle and give out entirely. Liquid stares at them in confusion, then jerks his head away, bewildered and distressed at the feeling of Mantis’ psychic reach in parts of his body that he knows shouldn’t be _able_ to be touched.

“Mantis, what on earth is going on?” Liquid says, scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s tired.

“You’ll get rid of it as soon as you’re done with it, won’t you, Mantis?” Eli whispers, just loud enough that the Liquid AI can hear.

Liquid jumps up, but it’s at the same time as Mantis is pulling at a loop so he can’t keep his balance and he stumbles back against the desk, his expression dazed, but his eyes as flat and unfeeling as Mantis remembers them. “Mantis,” he says sharply, recovering, “you have thirty seconds to explain.”

“Will both of you just shut up?” Mantis says. “I am trying to concentrate and I do _not_ want the two of you getting into an argument.”

“Don’t say ‘the two of you’ like this _thing_ is some kind of _equal_ to me,” Eli snaps.

“Who are you?” Liquid half-shouts at Eli. “Why do you look _exactly_ like me?! This isn’t right!”

Eli grins unpleasantly, and again his menacing nature is completely undercut by how sick he looks right now. “What’s the matter, _commander?_ A bug in the VR, you think?”

“There’s never been an AI running concurrent to itself before,” Liquid says, then glances at Mantis again. “And _you_ — you’re not the Mantis from this simulation.”

“He’s not an AI,” Eli growls. “Neither am I.”

“Not an…? What? I don’t—“

“Eli, don’t antagonize him,” Mantis says, waving him off of him. “Go lie down.”

Eli glowers at Mantis. He’s _jealous_.

“You two are not the same,” Mantis says patiently, “this one has no knowledge of our past together.”

“Oh?” Eli says, shifting his glare to Liquid.

Liquid glares back, one eye twitching and his breath momentarily catching as Mantis continues delving into his programming, as unobtrusively as he can.

“Is that so?” Eli says.

“ _What_ past together?” Liquid says, “and how is this even relevant?”

“What’s your relationship to Mantis?”

“He’s my subordinate and strategic advisor — _how_ is this relevant??”

Eli snarls at him. “You ungrateful—-“

“Eli, calm down,” Mantis says. “It is not his fault his sense of self is entirely built off of incomplete information. In fact, it is probably better that way.”

“Sense of self??” Eli says, turning to Mantis. “ _It’s_ a fucking computer program! Don’t stick up for him!”

“What are you two _on_ about?” Liquid demands. “Mantis, tell me who this is at once! That’s an _order!_ ”

Before Mantis can figure out a sufficiently delicate way to respond, Eli grabs Mantis’ hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles and the backs of his fingers, maintaining eye contact with Liquid.

“Er, what—“ Liquid starts, thrown off-balance by the display.

Eli doesn’t stop, still staring furiously at Liquid, his thoughts territorial, and turns Mantis’ hand over, nuzzling his palm then taking Mantis’ fingers into his mouth, sucking on them lewdly, humming and pressing his tongue into the spaces between.

Alright, this is distracting. Mantis abandons Liquid’s code for the time being so he can sort this out between the two Liquid Snakes.

“Eli, stop that,” Mantis says.

“What the _fuck?_ ” Liquid says at the same time.

Eli relinquishes Mantis’ fingers, a thin string of saliva hanging between them and his parted lips for half a second, but he doesn’t let go of Mantis’ wrist. Mantis knows he feels light-headed but Eli is barely aware of that himself, entirely focused on his hostility towards this _other_ him.

“What is this? What’s going on?” Liquid asks again, and there’s nervousness edging his voice now. Mantis almost wants to laugh. Even after spending all that time with the AI before Eli’s ‘ghost’ showed up, he’d never known that the Patriots had programmed in Eli’s weird, selective tetchiness about sex. He never thought they would have, considering it was partly Mantis’ influence that made him that way.

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Eli crows, pressing his cheek against Mantis’ palm.

Liquid turns his flummoxed glare to Mantis instead. “Why are you _allowing_ this? This is- this is inconsistent—”

“I make the occasional exception,” Mantis says dryly, then shakes his hand out of Eli’s grasp. “Eli, you should not be trying to pick a fight in your weakened state.”

Eli grumbles, but finally acquiesces, stomping (well, staggering, really) back over the chairs and sitting down heavily, then tilting and lying on his side as he realizes just how much his head hurts. He’s still glowering at Liquid, though. And Liquid’s still confused and affronted.

“Seriously, Mantis,” he says, “what-“

“Don’t talk to me,” Mantis says.

Liquid evidently can’t quite figure out how to respond to Mantis snapping at him like that, and then it doesn’t matter anyway as Mantis goes back to digging inconsiderately through his modules and he slumps against the desk in limp, twitching overstimulation.

Eli’s still staring. Despite his jealousy and, yes, rerouted self-esteem issues, he is once again unsettled at watching someone who is essentially _him_ seem completely _broken_ like this.

“Look away, Eli,” Mantis murmurs.

It only takes a few more minutes before Mantis has what he needs out of Liquid’s code and quietly deactivates him. Eli sits up again as Mantis walks over, and as soon as Mantis is close enough he grabs him around the waist again and pulls him into his lap, nuzzling him exhaustedly.

“You should be embarrassed of your behavior just now,” Mantis says flatly.

“Hmph.”

He huffs slightly, raising a hand to pet Eli’s hair. “Well, you should be feeling better soon. I believe I should be able to repair the damaged parts of your code with what I replicated from the unedited AI.”

“Mm.” Eli nods against his shoulder.

Again Mantis gets to work, fixing Eli’s AI framework. He does so gently, but lets Eli feel his psychic ‘fingers’ against his code, and Eli shudders, his arms tightening around Mantis.

“Oh…”

“Still dizzy?” Mantis says. Eli nods again, but he moans softly. He’s basically melting against Mantis now, pressing his face against his shoulder, mouth slightly open and tears at the corners of his eyes.

Mantis ignores his shivery panting and restless shifting; he concentrates on undoing the damage the anti-virus measures inflicted. He can tell Eli is starting to feel better and better, both because the soreness and weakness are abating, and because his arousal is distracting him from them anyway.

Eventually Mantis finishes up and that’s the end of that. Except Mantis has always gotten a self-conscious amusement out of the mushy incoherence of Eli’s thoughts whenever he’s dazed with pleasure like this, so he keeps fingering lines of code, and he takes off his mask and presses his scarred lips against Eli’s temple.

“A-Ahh… Mantis…”

“Hush.” He leans his head back indulgently as Eli kisses his neck, holding Mantis’ body insistently close to his. “You feel the need to reassure yourself of my affection for you, don’t you?”

“I— the way you were looking at that AI- like he _meant_ something—-“

“It was only because he looked like you,” Mantis says gently, caressing a tuple, resting his hands on Eli’s. “Of course I knew he was _not_ you, but it is hard to overcome… instinct. I couldn’t help but be…”

“Oh… j-just because he looks like me…” Eli slowly shakes his head against Mantis’ shoulder.

He thinks he’s starting to understand why Mantis failed to retreat when Snake was killing him.

Mantis doesn’t know how to answer that.

“It would be better, Eli, not to think about it,” he says softly.

Eli’s about to say something to that but Mantis slides off his lap, sitting next to him instead, and pulls him down so now Eli’s in Mantis’ lap, or his head is, anyway. Mantis runs his fingers through his hair, and leaves off with his psychic fondling of his code, and Liquid whines.

“Oh, _hush_ ,” Mantis says again, “you need to cool off now.”

“Ghh…”

He keeps playing with Eli’s hair as Eli gradually settles down and starts to unwind. His eyes flick back and forth, searching Mantis’ face - trying to settle back in to the idea that yes, Mantis actually _likes_ him, and no, there isn’t anyone or anything that Mantis likes _more_ than him — Mantis peers into his memories again; he remembers Eli’s earlier description of the files he was caught snooping around in, and his own curiosity is piqued.

_Оцелотовая Хватка?_ Mantis frowns slightly. That’s… odd.

“Something wrong?” Eli says.

Mantis shakes his head. “Those files you found in the network - you were right, they are financial reports. But…”

“…but?”

“Something is… not right. It seems they are records for a Moscow-based PMC. A small one.”

“Small? Not with the numbers I saw.”

“That is what is odd. For some reason their budget has dramatically increased in the past few months. Funding from Patriot coffers, I suspect.”

Eli cocks his head slightly, resettling on Mantis’ legs. “That _is_ odd. I suppose they’ve got some stupid plan with that company, then.”

“Somehow, I am unsure about that, Eli. I think this is more like embezzling.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The name of the PMC. Otselotovaya Khvatka — in English, it means ‘ocelot’s grasp’.”

There’s a long pause.

Eli scowls. “It can’t just be a coincidence.”

“No… I doubt it.”

After a silent, serious moment, Eli closes his eyes and stretches luxuriously, draping himself over Mantis’ lap and sighing. “Nothing we can do about it right now, is there? We’re just in the ‘watch and wait’ stage…”

“You are still concerned about what Ocelot is up to?”

“Don’t I have a right to be?”

Honestly, he does. Right now his ideal outcome of the whole situation is that Ocelot takes down the Patriots in whatever overly-complicated way he’s surely planning, but accidentally ensures a horrible, painful death for Big Boss in the process, and then he kills himself in grief and shame. Mantis finds that… optimistic, but allows Eli his wishful thinking.

“I am sure we will see,” he says.


End file.
